


Build

by leiascully



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, X-Files OctoberFicFest 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:40:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22077856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiascully/pseuds/leiascully
Summary: He's proud of what they've built.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Kudos: 8





	Build

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: n/a  
> A/N: For the Inktober prompt "build".  
> Disclaimer: No profit is made from this work and no infringement is intended.

When he looks around the office, he’s proud of what they’ve built: the mad architect with his visions and Scully, putting together each case brick by brick, her solid foundations supporting his airy notions. They’re on the tourist literature, so to speak. A notable sight. Mulder towers over Scully and Scully buttresses him, supporting his flights of fancy. She’s the keystone. She’s the equal and opposite force that makes his notions plausible. 

Maybe the rank and file of the Bureau mocks them, but like villagers avoiding their local witch, they slink in their hour of need for a cure only Mulder and Scully can deliver. Their basement office is a haunted house, is a cottage tucked away at the edge of the woods, is a ruined church where only midnight services are held. Their methods are madness, according to the others, but still their services are in demand, their pills not quite too bitter to swallow. They brew justice out of odd ends of evidence stewed with the whims of Mulder’s that Scully deftly dismembers. Eye of newt, strange fingerprint, half-remembered legend: they use every part of the beast that goes bump in the night. They’ve built a reputation over the last few years. It’s much more meaningful than what he had before, when he was the profile who could do no wrong. She’s much more than anyone he’s ever known.

They build castles in the air, arguing over the particulars. They build history. He builds a list of her favorite things as they spend hours together in cars and planes and restaurants and hotels. He thinks of Notre Dame, how people spent their whole lives working to build something they’d never see the finished glory of, believing in the project and the vision. He feels the same fervor when he looks at her. She’s the rose window, piecing together their story for all to see, filtering his notions through her own light. He’s the spire, gazing toward the heavens, supported by all the structures underneath. 

“What?” she says, catching him staring.

“Nothing,” he says, and lets her skeptical blue gaze baptize him like holy water.


End file.
